Apples and Moon Tears
by Atzenarii
Summary: AU one-shot, USUK. Alfred wakes up in the middle of the night to a loud boom of thunder, only to find that his boyfriend, Arthur, is no longer in bed, but rather outside in the apple orchard. Horrid summary, better story. Rated T for slight cursing, nothing heavy.


**Title: **Apples and Moon Tears

**Rating:** T

**Warning(s): **Slight cursing, unedited out of sheer laziness.

**_READ A/N AT BOTTOM. THANK YOU._**

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**Apples and Moon Tears**

Loud thunder resonated through the dark halls of the large home. Lightning illuminated the room for a split second through the thin curtains. Rain was coming, not for another hour at least, but the distant noises were enough to wake the blonde American, Alfred, from his sleep and make him wary. He had never liked storms, but if he could relax enough and ignore them as best as he could, then perhaps he could sleep through it. Just as that thought entered his consciousness, however, a particularly loud boom of thunder made the house shake, effortlessly brushing that thought away as if it were a small particle of dust and nothing more.

Realizing he would no longer be able to sleep any longer, Alfred rose from the bed and places his square frames upon his face. It was an exceptionally odd time to wake up for the day, as it was only about 3:45 in the morning, but he figured he'd drink coffee all day to keep him awake at work and pay for it later. Now able to see, he glanced about the bed room and was shocked to notice that his partner, Arthur, was no longer in bed with him. He also noticed that the bathroom door was still open and its insides were dark, meaning that his beloved Brit was not within its walls. A third look around the room, and his eyes trained on the master bedroom's door. It was cracked open ever so slightly when it was usually shut tight.

Fully rising from the bed, Alfred stretched for a moment and pulled on a deep blue robe from the chair adjacent from the bed, in front of the large window. As a habit, Alfred strode over and pulled aside the thin, white curtains as he did every morning when he woke and gazed outside. Instead of the bright morning sun, a pale, full moon dimly illuminated the branches and leaves of the apple orchard. Nonetheless, it was a calming sight for him, and it soothed his slight nerves. But at the same time, it reminded him of how Arthur loved the orchard and would often help him pick apples to sell at the local farmer's market, and thus, Arthur himself. Where had the emerald eyed blonde gone so early in the morning? Under the chair were Alfred's sandals, which he pulled on before striding out into the hall.

Silently, the American walked through the large halls that were only dimly lit by the moon's rays through the many windows until he reached the kitchen, intent on getting something to drink. Passing the light switch without so much as looking at it, Alfred crossed the tiles and opened a single cabinet to grab a glass when something to the left caught his eye. Leaning back slightly, with the glass in hand, to see around the cabinet door, he noticed that the backdoor was ajar, just like the bedroom door. It was a peculiar sight, and it caused Alfred's curiosity levels to spike and shut the cabinet.

The little glass was cast aside and all but forgotten as the American strode over to the back door and stuck his head out into the cool, humid air. All seemed calm to the right as far as he could tell, but there was a large stack of buckets used for collecting apples obstructing his view to the left, causing him to step outside fully. Just as the right looked, the opposite side was calm and peaceful, but there was something peculiar resting there. Sitting proudly atop the porch's railing was a clear, glass bowl filed nearly to the top with water. Below it, multiple reflections played out on the old wood of the porch danced due to the moon shining through it. As the water rippled by an invisible wind, the reflections moved more erratically. It was a beautiful, yet eerie, sight to the American who had clearly watched too many horror films at the cinema.

'Why is this bowl out here?' He thought was he walked closer to it. Figuring it was unimportant, he was about to pick it up and dump it in the yard and go back inside when a shadow within a shadow moved on the grass. For some reason, the common occurrence caused his blue eyes to divert away from the bowl.

It seemed to be within the branches of a leafy tree, if the jagged shape was anything to go by, and this cause Alfred to look up at the shadow castor. Indeed, it was a tree. The oldest tree in the orchard, in fact. That tree had been the first tree his great-great-grandfather had planted on the land after he built the house, and it had grown to become a healthy tree that produced the best apples by the time the place was passed down to Alfred at age eighteen when his father died in a wreck. Day after day, the memories, both happy and sad, brought a smile to Alfred's face, and today it made him smile brighter once he realized what was in the branches, causing it to shake.

In one of the lower branches was his lover, his shape outlined by the brilliant moon through the branches, who was currently reaching up to grab an apple with his sharp, long incisors. His ears were back and his tail was relaxed, yet immensely focused at the same time, as if grabbing that single apple was a greatly tedious job. His pose made Alfred wonder what was so special about that apple, so he decided to lean against a nearby pillar. He watched as Arthur effortlessly sank his teeth into the dark red fruit and pulled it from the branch before jumping down to the ground.

"Alfred," Arthur said as took the apple from his mouth and walked over to where Alfred and the bowl stood idly. "What are you doing out here so late at night?"

"I could ask you the exact same thing. You've never randomly got out of bed to pick an apple before…" Alfred replied as Arthur pulled a pocket knife from seemingly thin air. The engravings on the blade glinted in the dim light, creating an illusion that the small wolf there was running. Alfred had always vaguely wondered why it looked like that in certain light, but had never thought about asking.

"I'm not just 'picking an apple,' love… I'm making something… something to calm our minds so that we may sleep through the upcoming storm, for I feel that we will need it due to the strength of it." With a few swift slices, Arthur cut the fruit into bits and let them fall into the bowl of water and float there. Below, the reflections danced even more erratically than before.

"With apple water at four in the morning?" Alfred raised an eyebrow. "I've always known that you were an odd one."

Arthur half-heartedly glared at his lover. "Shut it and let me concentrate, you bloody git…"

Alfred laughed softly, but remained otherwise silent as he watched Arthur turn away from him and climb the same apple tree with ease. Sighing with slight jealousy at how easy it seemed, the American crossed his arms and observed as the blond grabbed a second apple with his teeth once more. In seconds, he returned and drew the knife again on the apple, but this time only cut a sliver of the apple and ate it quietly.

"Can't waste a good slice, now can we, dear?" Arthur laughed and set the fruit down on the railing next to the bowl.

"Guess not…" Came the lame reply.

Arthur remained silent for a moment and lifted his arm above the bowl of water containing the chopped apple. Alfred visibly flinched as Arthur brought the engraved blade across his own wrist to draw blood, but was careful not to let any of the blood flow into the water.

"Give me your wrist, Alfred." The Brit said in a serious tone.

Said man knew it would be a bad idea to argue when he was in a serious mood, so he extended his arm. He didn't dare try to move, even as the blade was brought across his own wrist. Letting out a sharp hiss of pain, Alfred tried to recoil, but was held in place by Arthur until some of the dark, crimson blood dripped onto Arthur's own bloodied wrist.

"What the hell, man!" Alfred un-heroically shrieked as he pulled his wrist back and cradled it, uncaring that some of the blood was getting on the long sleeve of his robe. He thought about going inside and properly wrapping it, but his curiosity kept him rooted to the spot. What was Arthur _doing?_

"Oh belt up, Alfred. Just be happy I'm not making _you_ go through this part. It may not be a lemon or salt, but it can, and _does_, hurt just as much." The emerald eyed man then picked up the apple he had made a small slice in and squeezed it hard. With the help of his sharp claws, juice flowed freely out of the slice and dripped onto his wrist. He did this until the juice helped the mixed blood flow easily into the water just underneath.

"That is _so_ disgusting." Alfred stared in disgust that only intensified as he noticed that Arthur added in a single strand of sandy fur from his tail to the horrid mix. He was sure that this was something a psycho scientist or something in a horror movie would do, but ignored that thought.

"It looks gruesome now, but trust me, it is worth it, Alfred." Arthur smiled at the bowl and began stirring it with the still-stained knife.

The couple both stared intently at the mixture as it all seemed to somehow congeal into a thick, dark liquid. It was around this time that Arthur began singing a haunting tune that seemed to fill Alfred's mind, erasing all other thoughts except for one. In his mind's eye was a tall cliff in which the moon shone upon brightly. On said cliff was the outline of a wolf that suddenly howled and turned its head, staring directly at Alfred with bright, green eyes.

As the tune faded away in a gradual decrescendo, so did the vision and Alfred was brought back to the present where a strange, whole fruit was floating in an opaque liquid. Not only was it odd that a fruit appeared from the ghastly brew, but the fruit _itself_ was strange. It was in the shape of an ordinary peach, but its skin was a gorgeous and eerie shade of midnight blue combined with indigo hues… The colour of a blueberry, in Alfred's opinion, but darker, much larger, and waxier in appearance. A blue peach, perhaps? And from an apple tree, no less… Peculiar.

"Erm, Artie…" Alfred began. "What the hell _is_ that? And where'd it come from?"

Arthur smiled fondly at the fruit and picked it up out of the opaque liquid. "This, my dear, is _Yt Vren Siiorii._ It is the fruit of my homeland before I ended up in England. Oh, how I miss it…"

"What? Um…"

Arthur sighed. "In English, literally 'The Blue Fruit.'"

"_Yt Vren Siiorii_ sounds more … elegant."

"I guess it does, Alfred." Arthur laughed and pulled the fruit from the bowl, cutting it into pieces, showing off the dark grey meat inside. "Will you go inside and grab us each a glass, please? Oh, I nearly forgot… The drink here will heal your wrist for you, so there is no need to wrap it."

"Okay… and thanks." The American said as he walked back inside the dark house. Previously forgotten, the glass stood silently on the counter top, but not for long as the blond snatched it up and grabbed an identical one from the cabinet. "Here you go." He said as he returned outside.

"Thank you, dear." Arthur said from his new spot in the floor of the porch. His sandy tail was swishing lightly, the bowl by his side. The blue fruit was chopped into pieces and rested in Arthur's open palm. Alfred smiled. It had been a while since he had seen Arthur this relaxed as work had been hard lately as well as trying to constantly hide his tail and ears from everyone while in public. He sat down next to his lover and handed one of the cups over.

"What is that stuff in there anyway? It's so pearly and shimmery…" Alfred questioned as he watched the Brit dip the two cups into the bowl to fill them before passing one over.

"This is essentially a healing water that I drink to calm down from time to time…" He paused to take a drink from the glass before continuing. "It is called _Sarii Urdoquiel._ Literally, that translates to 'Moon Tears,' or 'Moon Drops.'"

"Cool…" In truth, Alfred had zoned out through half of the explanation in favour of staring at the liquid, but didn't have the heart to possibly hurt his lover. So, he opted for a generic answer.

Arthur only laughed lightly. "You never listen to me, do you? I bet you didn't even comprehend a portion of what I said. Am I right?"

"N-No!" came the reflexive answer.

An eyebrow raised. "Then repeat it. Word for word."

"…Shit." The American's face went completely red and he turned away, bringing the glass to his lips to drink nonchalantly. Unfortunately, though, the drink was very sour with a rather bitter aftertaste. It took him by surprise and ended up choking, sending a lot of it onto himself. "Wh-What the hell?! That shit's fucking _disgusting!_"

In response, Arthur laughed more and took another drink from his own. "I guess I should've warned you of its taste. Humans don't tend to like _Sarii Urdoquiel_ much, but our kind find it to be a gem… The sour taste reminds me of home…" Arthur's ears went completely back, flattening against his head as he tipped his head back. He downed the rest then got some more.

"Oh, so your taste buds were screwed _before_ you became a Brit and began cooking those bricks you call food~?" The American said innocently enough.

"My taste buds are just fine, you wanker! And I have much better taste than you with your greasy _hamburgers!_"

"But burgers are delicious, and they're HERO-FOOD! Ahahaha~!"

Arthur scoffed. "Hero-food my arse. Scones are better tasting _and_ they are healthier for you. They cannot clog your arteries."

"Whatever." Alfred knew that this fight could go on forever, so he decided to cut it short. Besides, he already knew himself that burgers were better…

The pair sat in silence with each drinking in their own thoughts until the Brit finally broke it. "Oh yes… Here, Alfred… try this." He dropped a piece of the blue fruit into Alfred's waiting hand. "It's rather sour at first, but gets sweet quickly. And as you eat it, look at your wrist."

Nodding, the other set down his glass and put the food into his mouth, careful to observe his wrist as he chewed. Just as Arthur had said, the fruit was sour, but quickly seemed to melt into liquid sugar. Even so, though, the slight twang of bitterness never dissipated. It was truly unlike anything the American had ever tried, but it wasn't necessarily unpleasant. Also adding to the uniqueness of the fruit was the fact that as he ate, the gash from the knife on his wrist seemed to fuse together with the dried blood seeping back into his somewhat tanned flesh.

"What? But, the cut…" Alfred sputtered out as he stared in astonishment. The cut was now gone with not even a scar left in its place! How curious! The fruit really could heal!

"I told you that it would work, Alfred. Why do you seem so surprised?" Arthur chuckled quietly. "My wrist is healed as well. Anyways, the drink should calm us and make us more relaxed as time goes on. Meaning: we should go inside before we fall asleep and get rained upon."

"Alright."

Quickly, the pair finished off the fruit and another glass or two of _Sarii Urdoquiel_ before heading inside. The remaining contents of the bowl were poured down the drain after Arthur explained that it doesn't keep well, Arthur's wolf knife was properly cleaned, and Alfred's slightly blood stained robe was put in the wash. Immediately after this, the couple retreated to their bedroom where the curtains were drawn once more and they lied down in the soft bed.

As Alfred lied there, he listened to the previously forgotten thunderstorm, but did not feel any nerves or wariness. He only felt warmth due to Arthur's body being pressed up against his own with the bushy tail draped over his abdomen like a blanket. Arthur had already succumbed to sleep, and he knew that it would soon take him as well. He also knew that this was most likely only possible thanks to the Moon's Tears, but he could care less. This way, he was able to sleep through the night despite the loud thunder and rain and not have to rely on coffee to keep him awake for the rest of the day. All in all, he preferred this way.

'Maybe Arthur could make that again the next time in rains?' Alfred thought before falling into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

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**A/N: **I had this written in August. Why the hell haven't I put this up until now?! Oh well… This was inspired by an old RP I did with a friend. Anyways, I know that it is a bit odd and has quite a few elements that are completely and utterly fictional (It's fiction, Atzie. You should know this… /shoots myself), and I understand that it must leave you in questioning, so I'll try to explain a couple of things.

First off, yes, Arthur is wolf-hybrid-thing. I made him so that he is of a separate race from human and he was born in said fictional land. He apparently moved to England at a young age, giving him an accent and also the title of "English/British." Furthermore, he has a wolf spirit inside of him, thus, the cliff.

Second, the language. Also completely made up in my mind one day while hopelessly bored. And, if anyone's wondering for some reason that is beyond me, I'll explain the pronunciation of the words:

_Yt Vren Siiorii – _Yit vren see-oh-ree.

_Sarii Urdoquiel – _Sah-ree er-do-kee-el.

Alright, I think that that is it, so thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it at 2am with a thunderstorm outside~ :D If you have the time, I'd really like it if you dropped a review. It would really give me some feedback on my writing as well as how I can improve(, because my friends aren't much help at times. Iamsogoingtogetmurderedbythe mforthatline…)

Oh, I was lazy and didn't bother with editing this. If you find a major error, point it out please!

_~Atzenarii_


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